


1. Ain't that a kick in the Head

by Rose_The_Reaper



Series: The Sniper and The Courier [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesiac Courier (Fallout), Memory Loss, Mojave Wasteland (Fallout), Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27805429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_The_Reaper/pseuds/Rose_The_Reaper
Summary: The Courier, Ashes, wakes up in Goodsprings with a massive headache and no memory. The first part of the series, "The Sniper and The Courier".
Series: The Sniper and The Courier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034421
Kudos: 2





	1. Ain't that a kick in the Head

This is the last job. I reminded myself. I just need the caps from this last shipment and then I can rid myself of my courier days and waste my days drinking. I touched the pocket where the platinum chip lay, ensuring it hadn't fallen out. But 1000 caps seemed a bit high to deliver a casino chip. I made sure that my 10mm was loaded and kept it ready to fire. The sun had begun to set which meant I had to be extra careful about my surroundings. I passed Goodsprings and was heading towards Sloan when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around and saw a man in a checkered suit with a few members of the Great Khans. I felt a small bit relief since they weren't raiders or fiends, but I still felt uneasy. I turned around and kept walking when one of the men called out to me.

"I think you got something of mine pussycat."

"I've never met you. How could I have something of yours?" I asked, turning around. Before I could react one of the Great Khans struck me with a baseball bat, knocking me to the ground. Before I could get up, one of them hit me with the blunt end of their rifle, causing me to blackout.

When I started coming to, I could make out the lights from The Strip. My head pounded. I was in a kneeling position in front of the man with the checkered suit, my wrists bound and a gag in my mouth. To the left of me, a Great Khan was digging a hole.

What the fuck did I get myself into? I asked myself, twisting in my restraints.

The bastard in the checkered suit seemed to be the one in charge and in his hands, I saw a silver glint. I moved my hands to my pocket and felt only cloth - the chip gone. I started shouting but only muffled cries escaped me.

"Guess who's waking up over here." one of the Great Khans said.

The bastard in the checkered suit took a long drag from his cigarette before tossing on the ground and putting it out with his foot. He moved closer to me and pulled the chip out of his pocket.

"You've made your last delivery kid." he said, standing up. He placed the chip back in his coat and pulled out a 9mm revolver. From the short distance between us, I could see engravings along the barrel. I would have loved to rip it from his hands and fire the entire magazine into his cocky grin.

"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck. The truth is.... the game was rigged from the start." he said, pointing his gun at me and firing. My head exploded with pain as I let out a muffled whimper.

I felt my body being shoved into the hole and some dirt was thrown on top of me before everything went silent.

~~~

I woke up, my eyes painfully adjusting to the bright lights around me.

"You're awake, how about that." a voice said.

When my vision focused, an older man was sitting next to me, a worried expression on his face. I went to get up but immediately felt dizzy.

"Whoa, easy there. Easy. You been out cold for a couple of days now."

"Where am I?" I asked, my dry throat barely a whisper.

"Goodsprings." he answered, handing me a glass of water. I drank it then continued my questioning.

"Who are you?"

"Doc Mitchells."

"What happened to me?"

"Victor pulled you out of a grave and brought you here. You had a nasty gunshot wound to your head."

I stared at him.

"I don't remember being shot."

"Well it probably jostled your memory a bit. It should hopefully recover in a few weeks. But to be honest, I wasn't expecting you to wake up. The surgery took almost an entire day."

He handed me a small hand mirror and I gazed into it.

On my right temple a large bandage was taped to my skull. My dirt brown hair was shaved on the right side and left long on the other.

"I had to shave half your head to properly fix everything. Sorry if I missed up bad."

"No, it looks good actually." I said. My eyes were grey - which reminded me of a storm cloud. I set the mirror down and I slowly began to stand up, worried about falling. Doc Mitchells stood nearby, waiting to catch me. I took a few shaky steps.

"Try walking to that machine there."

I did so and leaned against it, my muscles aching.

"Everything hurts."

"You haven't used your muscles for a week, of course its gonna hurt a bit."

"Can I stay a bit longer?"

"Of course, what doctor would send a patient away before they recovered?" he said with a laugh. "Do you remember your name?"

"Um." I started; my mind blank. I couldn't remember. The only thing I remembered were the events of the past few minutes. "I don't remember."

"What about that dog tag you got on there?" he said, pointing to my chest.

I looked down and saw a dog tag chain hanging from my neck. I grabbed it and studied it.

_Ashes - Oct 1, 2257_

"My name is Ashes?"

"It's not what I would pick for you, but if that's what you think it is."

"Is it okay if I walk around? I want to strengthen my muscles a bit."

"Of course. Just don't wander too far. Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

I slowly walked around the room, trying to get re-accustomed to using my muscles. Doc Mitchells hovered close to me, ready to catch me if I fell. After a few laps around the room, Doc Mitchells spoke up,

"If you don't mind, I would like to do a few psychological evaluations, just to make sure everything's working alright."

"Sure thing." I said as he led me to another room and gestured to the couch. I sat down and he picked up a folder from a table next to him.

"Now, I'm gonna say some words and I want you to say the first thing that comes into your mind."

"Okay." I said, allowing myself to relax more on the couch.

"Dog." He said, starting the evaluation.

"Cat." I answered without putting any thought into it.

"House."

"Shelter."

"Night."

"Sleep."

"Bandit."

"Stab." I answered, feeling like he might find my response too violent or aggressive.

"Light."

"Dark."

"Last one: Mother." He said.

"Caretaker."

"Very good." he said. "Now I'm going to read out some statements. I want you to tell me how much they sound like something you would say."

"Alright." I said, with a nod.

"Conflict just ain't in my nature." He started.

"Agree." I stated.

"I ain't given to relying on others for support."

"Disagree."

"I'm always fixing to be the center of attention."

"Disagree." I said.

"I'm slow to embrace new ideas."

"Disagree."

"I charge in to deal with my problems head-on."

"Disagree."

"We're almost done here." He said reassuringly. "Now I'm going to show you some images. Tell me what you see."

He held up the first image and I stared at it.

"Um. An oozing wound." I half said, half guessed.

"And this one?" he asked, holding a new image.

"A ship at sea."

"Final one." He said.

"A bearded man."

"Give me a minute to go over your results." He said, leaning back in his chair.

"Anything I should be worried about?" I asked.

"Not at all." He said. "By the way you answered, seems the bullets might have done your brain some good."

"Well, I'm glad a decent surgeon was nearby." I commented, standing up.

"You should thank Victor, he's the one that pulled you out of that hole." He said.

"I will later." I said. "Thank you, again, for helping me."

"Just doing my job. Now, would you mind staying a bit longer, just so I can make sure you'll be able to travel without adverse effects."

"If you insist." I said, not wanting to worry him. He led me back to the treatment room and practically demanded I rest in bed for a few hours. I laid down and to my surprise, immediately fell asleep.

I woke up the next day with a slight headache. I sat up in bed and saw a blue jumpsuit neatly folded on the table next to me. I got up and pulled it on. I left the room and searched the house for Doc Mitchells. He was in the kitchen cooking.

"Glad to see my wife's old jumpsuit fits you." He said when he noticed me standing in the doorway. "Breakfast is about ready, if you wanna take a seat."

I sat down in the seat across from where he stood. A few moments later he set a plate down in front of me and another in front of himself. I stared at the plate, my stomach growling. I realized that I probably hadn't eaten since before I got shot. The plate had a portion of beans, a slab of brahmin meat, and some maize.

I devoured the food quickly, barely tasting it as my ravenous instincts took over. Doc Mitchells slid his plate in front of me when I finished mine.

"You look like you need this more than I do." He said, standing up. "I'm going to go get you some things to help you on your way."

I tried to eat the second plate a bit slower, but still ended up finishing it within minutes. Doc Mitchells came back into the kitchen and set a messenger bag down next to me. He began removing the contents.

"Here. This is yours. It was all you had on you when you was brought in." He said, handing me a form with "Mojave Express" written across the top.

"I hope you don't mind but I gave the note a look. I thought it might help me find a next of kin. But it was just something about a platinum chip."

"Thanks."

"Now before you head out, you ought to have this." He said, handing me an odd-looking device. "It's called a Pip-Boy. I grew up in one of the vaults they made before the war. We all got one. Ain't much use to me now, but you might want it, especially after what you've been through. I know what its like, having something taken from you."

"Thank you, again, for everything." I said as he helped put the Pip-Boy on my left wrist.

"Here's a few more things to help you." He said. He handed me 4 stimpaks, 18 caps, a few bobby pins, a 9mm pistol, and 27 rounds of ammo.

He placed the items in the messenger bag and handed it to me.

"What should I do now?" I asked.

"Well feel free to take anything lying around before you head out. But I would head down to the saloon and talk to Sunny Smiles. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert, especially since you may not remember much."

I stood up and began to leave his house.

"Just try not to get killed anymore." He said, concern in his voice. "And if you get roughed up, come on back and I'll patch you back up."

“Thanks.” I said. I waved goodbye and walked out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please check out my other works if you enjoyed this one and check out: https://ko-fi.com/rosethereaper for updates and such!


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